


Shapes in the Stars

by dreamdustmama



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-03
Updated: 2010-07-03
Packaged: 2017-10-10 09:05:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamdustmama/pseuds/dreamdustmama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer Arthur turns sixteen he meets a boy named Merlin, and falls in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shapes in the Stars

The stone cottage is at the end of the lane Arthur lives on.

His mother thinks it's charming and his father thinks it's an eyesore. Arthur doesn't think it's anything, just a tiny, abandoned house made of stones with rust-red shutters. He can't see anything special about it, but its existence doesn't bother him either. Everyday he passes it, usually on the walk to and from the bus stop. He doesn't think about it while he's in school, or while he's doing chores, or while he's playing footie with Leon and Morgana in his own backyard.

It's just _there_, and Arthur doesn't pay it any attention.

~*~

The summer he turns sixteen Morgana dares him to spend the night in the cottage by himself.

"I hear it's haunted," she says one Saturday, a spark of challenge in her eyes.

"Haunted?" Arthur scoffs, and sets one foot on the football they're playing with. "Don't be stupid, there's no such thing. It's just an abandoned cottage."

"So you won't have any problem staying there, then," Morgana smirks, voice smug.

"What'll I get if I do?" Arthur asks, and kicks the football over to where Leon is waiting and listening.

Morgana taps her finger against her chin thoughtfully. "The honor of claiming you aren't chicken shit?"

Leon laughs at this, and kicks the ball towards her. "You know Arthur isn't chicken shit. _Everybody_ knows Arthur isn't chicken shit."

Morgana smiles at him, deadly sweet, and lets the football come to rest comfortably under her foot. "Tell me, Leon. Do you want to have sex ever again?"

"Seriously, Morgana," Arthur says quickly, because Leon immediately goes pale and Arthur really, _really_ doesn't want to talk about The Thing They Don't Talk About. "I'm not going to spend the night in some run-down little house just to prove I can. I get something out of it or it's a no-go."

Morgana raises her chin slightly. "Alright. I'll do your maths homework for the entire first month of school."

Arthur's eyebrows shoot up; Morgana is a literal maths _genius_, but that doesn't mean he trusts her. "You won't make me fail on purpose? You'll make it believably mine? Because I'm not as stupid as you like to think."

Morgana rolls her eyes. "Yes, Arthur, I will keep the work at your level."

"You've got a deal," he says, and holds out his hand for her to shake.

~*~

They tell Uther and Ygraine that Arthur is staying the night at Leon's. He packs a bag with a pair of pajamas, clean clothes for the morning, his toothbrush and toothpaste (with a bottle of water for rinsing), his mobile, a few magazines, the book he's been reading, his fully-charged iPod, a torch, extra batteries, and lots of snacks. At the last minute he realizes that there probably isn't a usable bed, so he grabs his sleeping bag, pillow, and a few light blankets.

"You boys going camping?" Uther asks when he sees how much stuff Arthur is taking.

"Something like that," Arthur answers casually and drops a kiss to his mum's cheek. "I'll be home in time for dinner tomorrow."

"Have fun," Ygraine says, shooing them out the door. "Bring Leon back with you and we'll have a barbecue."

Arthur waves over his shoulder and dumps his stuff in the bed of Leon's truck before sliding onto the bench seat next to Morgana. She smirks at him and he rolls his eyes, turning to stare out the window as Leon fires the engine and heads down the driveway. The cottage is only half a mile away so they're there in almost no time at all, truck bouncing slightly over uneven ground, making tracks in the waist-high grass and weeds.

The sun is setting, the soft light bouncing off the stone and making the little house almost look as if it's glowing. Arthur eyes the roof and spares a grateful thought that it isn't raining. He hops out of the cab and quickly grabs his things from the back.

"We'll see you in the morning," Leon says, leaning forward to peer around Morgana. "Probably around nine or ten."

"If we're late—" Morgana starts, and the wicked grin on her face tells Arthur exactly what she's going to say.

"Bye!" he interrupts quickly, and begins wading through the sea of weeds to the front door of the cottage. Leon's truck rumbles as he turns around and heads in the direction of his own home.

The door is the same rust-red as the shutters, the hinges shrieking loudly as Arthur pushes it open. He can't help but wince and automatically glance over his shoulder at the dirt cloud from Leon and Morgana's departure. Frowning at himself, Arthur steps over the threshold and slowly pushes the door shut behind him.

The main room is empty and surprisingly clean, the hardwood floors creaking under his feet. Light from the setting sun shines through the window and illuminates bits of dust floating in mid-air. The walls are a faded beige, outlines visible where pictures used to hang. Arthur sets his bag and bed roll down and wanders toward the arched doorway on the opposite side of the room. It leads to a short hallway, and a quick look through the other rooms reveals a kitchen with a rickety table and a couple of chairs, an empty bedroom, and a bathroom with a toilet that actually works.

There must be a well, Arthur thinks, and is relieved at small miracles.

Back in the main room he sets up his sleeping area, grabbing a bag of crisps and a Coke from his bag before settling down to read as much of his book as he can in the fading light. He's half-way finished with it; the night before he ended up falling asleep just as he had reached a pivotal moment for the book's young hero. The fantasy world quickly draws Arthur in, knights and dragons and magic, and it isn't until he's holding the book an inch from his face that he realizes how dark it's gotten.

He reluctantly closes it, setting it to the side as he stands and stretches, his back popping. His bladder quickly makes itself known so he pads into the bathroom to take care of it. When he gets back to the main room he has to pull out his torch, and grabs his phone to see how late it is. Quickly deciding that it's still too early to try sleeping, Arthur puts in his earbuds and hits shuffle on his iPod, taking out one of the magazines he brought and flipping idly through it by the light from the torch.

Since he's by himself he doesn't bother keeping his voice down as he sings along, and he's only three songs in when a pair of worn Converse trainers appear in the edges of the torch light.

Arthur immediately startles and gasps, scrambling backward and dropping both the torch and the magazine. He yanks his earbuds out and jumps to his feet, backing against the wall, his heart pounding madly in his chest. Dealing with batshit crazy axe murderers is definitely _not_ on his list of activities tonight, and he severely doubts that he can fend one off with an iPod and a bunch of football magazines. The owner of the trainers bends down and picks up the torch, the light swinging wildly around the room and over Arthur, blinding him.

"Hello," a young, pleasant voice says.

Arthur only relaxes marginally, because who's to say batshit crazy axe murderers can't be kids his own age? "Who the fuck are you?" he bites out, automatically trying to shield his eyes from the beam of light. "And can you stop shining that thing right at my face?"

"Oh, sorry," the voice says, and the light shifts to illuminate the speaker. Arthur catches a glimpse of sharp cheekbones and big ears, a wide grin spreading over a boy's face. "I'm Merlin. It's nice to meet you."

Arthur gapes at him. "Nice to—what the hell are you doing here?"

Merlin blinks and gestures behind himself at a lump of a shadow that Arthur hopes is an overnight bag and not one that carries axes. "The same thing you are, apparently. My mum packed sandwiches, do you want one?"

Arthur can't help but stare as Merlin turns and crouches down next to his bag, placing the torch under one arm so that he can use both hands. He opens the zip and pulls out a large container that has to be holding a good dozen sandwiches.

"They're ham," Merlin continues, sitting fully on the floor and crossing his legs. He takes the torch from under his arm and sets it down at an angle that illuminates most of the area he's in, and seems completely unfazed by Arthur's stunned silence. He reaches back into his bag and pulls out a small, battery-operated lantern, pressing a button to make it light up and brighten the room a bit. "Mum makes the best ones. I think she also sent some fruit, and cookies for dessert. What's your name? You didn't say."

Arthur can't quite grasp what's going on, and because his brain has yet to catch up to what's happening he automatically blurts out, "Arthur. Er—"

"Arthur," Merlin repeats, eyeing him thoughtfully for a second before nodding. "I like it. Come on, have a sandwich. They're really good, and I promise I didn't poison them or anything. I didn't even know anyone would be here."

Arthur thinks there is actually a bit of logic in that last statement, so he eases away from the wall and sits back down on his make-shift bed. He stays far away from Merlin and his sandwiches, though. "Does your mum really know you're here?"

Merlin shrugs and pulls off the lid of the container. "Of course she does; both my parents do. I wouldn't want to worry them."

"Oh," is all Arthur can say to that, and ignores the slight stab of guilt at the lie he told his own mother. He watches as Merlin grabs one of the sandwiches and takes a big bite. "So you come here a lot, then?"

Merlin nods. "All the time. I've never seen you here before."

"My cousin dared me," Arthur says, and wonders why he's even telling this strange boy anything. "She said some stupid shit about it being haunted and then offered to do my maths homework for a month."

Merlin takes another bite of his sandwich, looking thoughtful. "I'm pretty sure this place isn't haunted, though sometimes I do see a mouse or two."

Arthur grimaces. "As long as they stay away from me."

"Right," Merlin says, and he sounds far more amused than Arthur thinks he should be. He holds out the container of sandwiches. "You know you want one."

Arthur scowls and opens his mouth to say he most definitely _does not_ want one of Merlin's mum's sandwiches, but something about the vaguely challenging expression on Merlin's face stops him. Narrowing his eyes he reaches into the container and takes one of the sandwiches, purposely biting as viciously as he can through the soft bread.

"Oh, god," he says, his eyes widening.

Merlin grins, huge and triumphant. "Told you so."

Arthur glares at him and then eyes the container, wondering how many he can get away with eating. "Your parents really don't care that you come here?"

"Why would they?" Merlin asks, tilting his head to the side in genuine confusion. "They trust me. I'm pretty sure they think I come here to wank, actually."

Arthur chokes and splutters around the food in his mouth, heat blooming across his cheeks. "Please," he forces out, "_please_ tell me that isn't why you're here?"

Merlin's eyes light up with amusement. "What if it is? Are you a prude or something?"

"Of course not!" Arthur cries indignantly. "But that doesn't mean I want to know about _that_. I don't even know you!"

"Hmm, this is true," Merlin says thoughtfully, and grabs another sandwich. "So what's your last name?"

Arthur blinks. "Er. Pendragon."

"Mine's Emrys," Merlin says. "I saw you looking through those footie magazines when I came in. Do you play?"

"Yeah," Arthur says, and realizes that he's somehow finished his sandwich without noticing. He only hesitates a second before reaching for another, ignoring Merlin's knowing grin. "I'm the captain of my school's team."

"I'm not really into football," Merlin admits. "I've got too many knees and elbows. Don't mind watching it though." He flashes an unmistakable grin.

Arthur feels something not unpleasant twist in his stomach, and he catches Merlin's eye before very carefully saying, "Watching it can be fun too." Merlin's grin widens at that and Arthur finds himself smiling back. "What do you do, then?" he asks. "Aside from sneaking into abandoned cottages on a regular basis."

Merlin shakes his head, smile turning rueful. "I don't really do any extracurricular school stuff. I work with my dad in his shop, fixing up motorbikes. Sometimes I help out my uncle Gaius in his herb store."

"What about for fun?" Arthur asks, for some reason genuinely curious.

Merlin shrugs. "That is fun. But otherwise I read, or go online. Be an idiot with my best friend Will. Eat. Sleep." He flashes Arthur a wicked grin. "Wank. Typical teenage boy stuff, I'm told."

Arthur glares at him. "Har-har," he mutters sarcastically. "Alright then, something simple. How old are you?"

"Sixteen," Merlin answers, draping his arms casually over his knees. "My birthday was this past November. What about you?"

Arthur shrugs slightly. "The same. As of two weeks ago."

"Really?" Merlin looks surprised. "I would have pegged you for at least seventeen. Possibly eighteen, though I admit that would be a bit of a stretch."

For some reason this makes Arthur flush, and he shifts where he's sitting. "Er. Thanks, I guess?"

Merlin's mouth turns up and he stares at Arthur for a second before turning and reaching back into his bag. "Want a cookie?"

Arthur blinks. "Do you do that a lot? Randomly change the subject, I mean."

"I'm told I do," Merlin says, and pulls out another container. "It's not intentional or anything. I just don't see the point in lingering on something once it's been covered."

Arthur can't really argue with that logic either, so he takes a small handful of cookies from the container. Merlin is odd but there's something about him that draws Arthur in, and despite the fact that he barely knows the other boy he feels something settle deep inside.

~*~

When he wakes the next morning he's disoriented. He doesn't remember falling asleep, and it takes several bleary moments before he realizes that Merlin isn't there. Arthur frowns, a strange kind of disappointment filling him. Which is stupid, he tells himself, because he's only known Merlin a few hours, despite the fact that they spent most of the night talking.

Arthur stretches and rubs his eyes before climbing to his feet and making his way to the bathroom. When he's finished he dresses and begins repacking the stuff that he brought. Everything is almost put away when he finds a bundle of bright red cloth that isn't his. He hesitates slightly before picking it up, and it falls open to reveal several of Merlin's cookies and a piece of folded paper.

His stomach flips and Arthur scowls at himself, opening the note to a messy scrawl.

_Arthur,_

The best things in life are the most unexpected. Enjoy the cookies.

Merlin

He stares at the note, his heart beating loud and steady in his ears. What does that even _mean_?

A horn suddenly sounds from outside and Arthur jumps almost guiltily, hastily refolding the note and stuffing it into his jeans pocket. He quickly grabs the rest of his things, including the bundle of cookies, and shoves them into his bag, not bothering to roll up his sleeping bag before snatching it up and heading out the door.

"So did you have fun?" Morgana asks cheekily as soon as he's settled beside her in Leon's truck.

Arthur opens his mouth to bite out a scathing retort, but then snaps it shut again. "Yes, actually," he says with full honesty. "It was – unexpected."

Morgana's eyebrows shoot up, but surprisingly she doesn't say anything else about it. Leon leans over and turns the radio up, and then turns the truck around and heads out. They go in the opposite direction from the Pendragon house, music up and windows down, and Arthur closes his eyes to enjoy the sun on his face.

~*~

He can't stop thinking about Merlin. He tries, he really does, but for the entire next week he is nothing short of distracted in everything he does.

"What in the world has gotten into you?" Ygraine asks the following Saturday morning. "You've just poured orange juice all over your cereal!"

Arthur blinks at her and then looks down at the counter, where his bowl of orange-soaked sugar puffs sits. "Um."

Ygraine suddenly frowns in worry, and hurries over to place her hand on his forehead. "Are you sick? Should I take you to the doctor?"

"What? No," Arthur protests, and gently bats her hand away. "I'm fine Mum, I promise. I'm just – a bit distracted is all." He grimaces at his would-be breakfast and carries it over to dump in the garbage disposal.

Ygraine is silent for a moment and then walks over to the fridge to pull out bacon and eggs. "How about I make you a real breakfast? You've been eating too much of that sugary nonsense lately anyway."

Arthur doesn't even try to hide his relief. "That would be great, thanks."

Ygraine just smiles at him over her shoulder.

~*~

Late that night Arthur dresses in jeans and a plain black t-shirt, pulling his trainers on and quickly running a comb through his shower-damp hair. His stomach feels like it's collapsing in on itself, twisting with icy hot nerves, and he resolutely ignores the way his hands shake as he silently pulls his door open and slips out. He long ago perfected the art of sneaking out after his parents were in bed, and it's only a matter of minutes before he's out the front door.

Arthur keeps to the shadows, continuously glancing over his shoulder as he forces himself not to run. He reaches the main road and starts to jog, knowing he can easily make the half-mile to the cottage. The night air is cool for summer, the nearly-full moon hanging low in the sky and lighting his path. It's mad for him to be doing this but if he doesn't he'll never be able to think straight again. Merlin somehow got under his skin in just a few short hours, and Arthur can't stay away.

It doesn't occur to him until he's standing in front of the dark cottage that maybe Merlin isn't even there tonight. The thought makes him slightly sick, and he has to swallow hard before walking up to the door and pushing on it. The main room is dark and empty, moonlight shining through the dusty window, and there's no sign of Merlin anywhere.

Arthur can't stop a noise of disappointment from escaping, shoulders slumping as he shuts the door behind him with a soft snap and leans back against it.

"Arthur?"

He shoots up straight, his heart immediately threatening to jump out of his chest. "Merlin?"

Merlin's head pops around the archway, his grin wide and happy. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever see you again. Well come on then, there's cake waiting in the kitchen." And he disappears back into the dark hall.

"Cake?" Arthur says after a brief pause, genuinely confused. He heads toward the hallway and cautiously steps into the kitchen, eyes widening at what he sees.

Merlin is at the rickety table, carefully placing candles on a chocolate cake. The lantern from last week is sitting beside it, illuminating the room. "It's only store bought, since I'm pretty bollocks at cooking and I didn't want my mum to know. Not that she'd have a problem with baking a cake, I just – didn't know if you were going to come back."

Arthur stares at him, and there's a faint blush coloring Merlin's cheeks. The sight sends something warm spreading through Arthur's chest. "Why did you want a cake?"

Merlin glances up at him, a smile tugging at his lips. "It's not for me, it's for you. See?"

He gestures towards it with one of the candles and Arthur steps closer, reading the words written in icing on top.

_Happy 16th Birthday Arthur_

"You got me a birthday cake?" Arthur blurts in pure astonishment. "But – why?"

Merlin shrugs and looks down at the cake, placing another candle on top. "You said last week you had just turned sixteen. I know you probably had this huge bash, but since we didn't meet until afterward I wanted to do something as well."

"Oh," Arthur says. "That's – that's pretty awesome, actually."

Merlin grins at him and then places the last candle in the cake before reaching into a plastic bag hung over the back of one chair and producing a cheap lighter. He lights each candle carefully and then steps back.

"I'm not singing," he says. "Which, trust me, is a good thing. So just go ahead and blow out the candles, and don't forget your wish."

Arthur can't help but let out a huff of laughter, a wide grin spreading across his face. He hasn't had candles on his cake since he was twelve and deemed himself too old, but somehow Merlin makes the thought of blowing them out with a childish wish seem kind of perfect. He steps closer and contemplates the haphazardly-placed candles, trying to figure out the best way to get them all extinguished at the same time.

"It's not a battle plan," Merlin says, sounding amused. "Just take a deep breath and then blow it at the flames."

Arthur glares at him but there's no real heat behind it. "I'm getting there," he sniffs, and then purposely counts to thirty before doing exactly as Merlin said. The candles all go out at once, the smoke curling up through the shadows caused by the lantern. There's a pause, silence falling around them, and Arthur's eyes meet Merlin's across the table.

After a few long moments Merlin clears his throat and shifts his gaze, reaching for the plastic bag again. "I've, um. I've got forks but I kind of forgot plates, so…"

Arthur starts laughing. "Well," he says, "I've always wanted to eat a cake that way."

Merlin smirks and holds out a plastic fork.

~*~

It's just before dawn when Arthur crawls back into his bed, barely managing to strip off his clothes before collapsing onto the mattress. He wriggles around just enough to slide under the covers and is asleep before he can get comfortable.

~*~

The following Saturday night finds Arthur once again at the cottage. Merlin is there when he arrives, this time with bacon sandwiches and peach pie. They sit on the floor of the main room to eat, containers between them.

"Does your mum always send enough food for five people?" Arthur asks around the last mouthful of his sandwich.

Merlin grins. "Yes, actually. It's just one of her things." He stares at Arthur for a second and then climbs to his feet, grabbing one of the blankets he had brought. "Come on."

Arthur hesitates slightly before standing as well. "Where are we going?"

"Just outside," Merlin answers, heading for the back of the cottage. "It's a clear night, and I want some fresh air."

Arthur follows him, and is surprised to find that the backyard has a huge, flat rock right in the center. He's never seen it before, which is explained when he glances in the direction of where the road is and can no longer see it. The angle is odd, hiding the rock from outside view.

Merlin takes his blanket and spreads it over the top of the rock before climbing up and stretching out on his back. His t-shirt slides up a bit, exposing a strip of pale white skin just above the waistband of his jeans, and Arthur's breath hitches. The small sound catches Merlin's attention and he glances over at Arthur, grinning.

"Don't be shy, it's nice up here. Oh, wait – don't tell me you're afraid of rocks?" His eyes widen in mock worry.

Arthur shoots him a nasty look and immediately climbs up beside him. "You think you're funny, don't you?"

"Sometimes," Merlin answers, grin widening. He reaches up and tugs on Arthur's sleeve. "Lay down. You can see the stars better that way."

Arthur huffs, faking irritation, and does as he's bid. "You are such a girl," he mutters, and Merlin just snorts in amusement.

The rock is big but they are both gangly sixteen year old boys, and there isn't much room between them. Arthur can feel the heat of Merlin's body next to his, and thinks he might just go mad. He ignores his pounding heart and stares up at the clear, dark sky. The moon is behind them, hidden by the trees, and it's easy to see the millions of little pinpricks of light.

"I've always wondered how people can see shapes in the stars," Merlin says. "Like the zodiac. No matter how hard I look I can never see what they say I'm supposed to."

Arthur shrugs as best he can. "I can't either. I think it's one of those eye-of-the-beholder type things."

There's a pause and then Merlin starts laughing, the sound echoing through the yard. "Eye of the beholder? It's patterns, not beauty."

"I could shove you off this rock, you know," Arthur says pleasantly, turning his head to look at him. "It wouldn't take much effort."

Merlin chokes back his laughter, though his eyes still sparkle with humour. "I don't doubt it. But I'd make sure I took you down with me."

Arthur tries to glare at him, and it works for a few seconds before he's breaking out into laughter himself. It feels incredible, to be out here enjoying his own ridiculousness with a boy he barely knows. He doesn't really understand it, this almost instant connection he's had with Merlin, but it feels right and he's not going to try to pretend it's not there.

Their laughter tapers off and an easy, comfortable silence falls between them. Arthur stares up at the sky and hopes, and thinks that maybe this is bigger and deeper than he realized. It's slightly terrifying, that feeling, but he's never been a coward and he's not going to start now.

"Have you ever done this before?" Merlin eventually asks, voice quiet. "Just lain outside at night, staring up at the universe and wondering at how small we really are?"

Arthur swallows. "No," he answers honestly. "But – this is nice."

"Yeah," Merlin agrees.

And when he feels the hesitant, purposeful brush of Merlin's hand Arthur smiles and slides their fingers together.

~*~

The next weekend a funfair comes to town. Arthur's first thought is that he wants to go with Merlin, but then he realizes that outside of Saturday nights at the cottage he has no way of contacting him. This thought bothers him, and he flops down on his bed and scowls at his ceiling for a good twenty minutes before remembering that there is such a thing as a phone book and he does actually know Merlin's last name.

There are a few Emryses in the book, and Arthur sighs and resigns himself to wrong-number excuses. It's on the third try that a familiar sounding voice answers, and all of a sudden Arthur's palms are sweating.

"Is this Merlin?" he asks, hoping his voice doesn't sound as nervous as he's feeling.

"It is." There's a pause. "Is this—?"

"Arthur, yeah," Arthur answers. "Hi. Hello."

Merlin chuckles slightly. "Let me guess. You dialed every Emrys in the phone book until you finally got the right one."

Arthur flushes. "No," he says petulantly, and then, "Yes. Look, that's not important, I just – you know that fair that's here this week? I was just – I was wondering, if you aren't too busy or anything, if maybe you'd like to go today? With me, I mean." He closes his eyes and wonders where the hell his power of intelligent speech fucked off to.

"Oh," Merlin says, sounding surprised. "I mean, yeah. Yes. I'd love to."

Something in Arthur's chest loosens and he's glad no one else is there to see the stupid smile that breaks out across his face. "Great. Brilliant. Um. I guess give me your address and I'll come and pick you up."

When he hangs up a few minutes later his heart feels like it's about to pound its way right out of his chest. He's slightly giddy, both excited and nervous, and part of him can't believe he's really about to go on a date with Merlin. He knows that they both realize that that's exactly what this is, even if the word itself never came up. Everything between them so far has been that way – unspoken but understood.

Arthur takes a quick shower and dresses in his best pair of jeans and his favorite red t-shirt with the dragon on the side, slipping his most comfortable pair of trainers on his feet. He double checks to make sure he has enough money for a taxi, tickets, and food, and then heads downstairs to leave his parents a note.

He has the taxi pick him up at the cottage and gives the driver Merlin's address. It's not until they're halfway there that he realizes he's probably going to have to meet Merlin's parents. Arthur allows himself a brief moment of panic before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Oi," the driver asks from the front seat. "You alright there, mate? You're not going to puke all over my seats are you?"

"I'm fine," Arthur answers, and opens his eyes to stare out the window. After a second the driver shrugs and goes back to ignoring him.

When they pull up to Merlin's house Arthur mutters a quick, "Wait here," before jumping out and approaching the front door. He rings the bell and waits, hands in his jeans pockets, as he tries to ignore the flips his stomach is performing. The door opens after only a few moments to reveal a kind looking woman with a welcoming smile on her face.

"You must be Arthur," she says, and when he nods she pulls him into a hug. "It's so lovely to meet you. I'm Hunith, Merlin's mum."

"Nice to meet you too," Arthur says, giving her a genuine smile as she steps back. "I hope Merlin didn't tell you anything too bad about me."

Hunith laughs. "Goodness no. He does talk about you quite a bit, but it's always been good things." She shoots him a sly look. "He's also said that you're quite a fan of my cooking."

"It is fairly excellent, yes," Arthur agrees, and Hunith smiles brightly.

"My husband wanted to meet you as well, but he got a last minute phone call from one of his customers and had to go," she says apologetically. "I do hope you will come back tonight and have dinner with us?"

Arthur feels some of his nervousness dissipate, relieved that at least Merlin's mum seems to like him. "That sounds great, I'd love to," he says honestly.

Clomping footsteps sound from the stairs on the left and Merlin appears, dressed similar to Arthur in a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt.

"Hey," he says, sounding slightly breathless. "Ready?"

Arthur swallows a bit and nods, his stomach twisting as the nerves return. "Yeah," he says, grateful that his voice at least sounds calm. "The taxi's outside waiting."

Merlin drops a quick kiss on Hunith's cheek. "Bye, Mum. See you later."

"Have fun," Hunith says, waving as Merlin leads Arthur back out the door and down to the taxi. "Eat too much candy floss!"

When the driver pulls away from the curb Arthur turns to Merlin. "Did your mum just tell us to eat _too much_ candy floss?"

Merlin laughs and shrugs. "Yeah, it's just something we do when we go to a fair. Eat enough candy floss to make our stomachs hurt."

"Oh," Arthur says, and feels his lips twitching into a smile. "I think I can handle that."

~*~

The fair is crowded, mostly with families and other teenagers. Arthur buys them each a full-pass wristband and Merlin gets their first two sticks of candy floss.

"So what do you want to do first?" Arthur asks, tearing off a hunk of the spun sugar. "I'm partial to the rides, myself."

"Rides are good," Merlin agrees. "And less dangerous now, at the beginning." He grins and waves his own half-eaten candy floss in explanation.

"Alright then," Arthur says, returning the grin. "Let's go."

~*~

They ride everything twice and some things three times, and eat as many sticks of sugar in between as they can. Arthur dares Merlin to climb the rock wall and then lets himself get dragged onto the huge claw-shaped ride that spins and swings at the same time. It makes him slightly queasy but it's worth it to hear Merlin's laughter in the seat beside him.

Eventually they decide to give the games a look, and as they're walking through the many booths Arthur reaches over and slips his hand into Merlin's. They're in public and his heart is pounding with the fear that it won't be okay, but Merlin just shoots him a soft smile and twines their fingers together. He slowly lets out a breath, relief flooding him, and smiles back.

~*~

"Your mum invited me to come over for dinner tonight," Arthur says as they're walking. "She was really nice."

Merlin shrugs but there's a small smile on his face. "Mum likes you. I think my dad will too."

Arthur can't help but smirk as something else comes to mind. "She also said you talk about me a lot." The smirk grows into a full-blown grin when Merlin flushes brightly.

"Yeah," he admits with a slightly sheepish grin. "I guess I do. Does that – does it bother you?"

"Of course not," Arthur says, trying to come off as scoffing but able to feel the heat crossing his cheeks. He gives Merlin's hand a squeeze. "There's no reason for it to."

Merlin's expression relaxes but he hesitates a moment longer before speaking. "What about you? Have you said anything to your parents yet?"

Arthur stops walking, tugging on Merlin's hand until he turns to face him. "I haven't yet," he says honestly. "But today has been a blast; I can't remember the last time I had so much fun – and ate so much candy floss." Merlin huffs out a laugh and Arthur grins, swiping his thumb over the inside of Merlin's wrist. "So yes, I'm going to tell them. And my friends too."

"You don't _have_ to tell them," Merlin starts to say.

"I want to," Arthur interrupts, shaking his head. He hesitates, swallowing. "I really like you. Quite a bit, actually, more than I've liked anybody else before. And if that doesn't scare you off then I'd like it if you came over one day to meet my family."

Merlin's smile is brilliant, wide and happy and with a hint of relief. "Alright," he says. "I'd like that."

"Good," Arthur breathes. "Great. Um."

"Let's go play that ring toss game," Merlin offers, turning and tugging on Arthur's hand. "I bet I can get more rings on the target than you can."

Arthur snorts. "You are _so_ on."

~*~

He loses spectacularly, but he's in too good a mood to care. Merlin is triumphantly carrying his giant stuffed dragon prize around in one arm, his other hand still clasped in Arthur's. Evening is starting to fall, and the lights on all the rides are coming on. Arthur knows they'll have to leave soon, and feels a sharp stab of disappointment at the thought.

"We haven't ridden the big wheel yet," he points out, gesturing towards it. "I think that's probably the only thing we haven't."

Merlin's mouth twists into a badly hidden smirk. "Are you hoping it'll stop at the top so you can kiss me all romantic and cliché-like?"

"Maybe," Arthur sniffs indignantly. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Merlin laughs. "Not in the least. I was kind of hoping you would, actually."

"Only kind of?" Arthur asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, really hoping," Merlin admits. "We'll have to make sure there's room for Kilgarrah, though." He shakes the big dragon for emphasis.

Arthur has to stop walking so that he can let himself double over in laughter. "You _named_ it?" he gasps out.

Merlin grins widely and shrugs. "It felt appropriate."

"You are completely mental," Arthur says, and if it comes out sounding more fond than accusing, well. "Alright, come on. I'm sure the three of us can fit."

They sit the stuffed dragon in one corner and Arthur takes the other, Merlin squeezing between them. The wheel starts and stops several times as more people get on, and then it finally begins going in a smooth circle. Merlin links their fingers together, pressing his leg from knee to hip against Arthur's. They go for several rotations before the wheel finally stops with them at the top, and fortunately it's still light enough for them to see for miles around.

"I love the view from up here," Merlin says, and points to a river in the distance. "My dad and I go fishing there all the time. We never really catch anything, but it's fun."

"I've never been fishing," Arthur says, and Merlin turns to him with wide eyes.

"Never?"

Arthur shrugs. "My dad's great but fishing isn't something he'd enjoy. If he had to do anything water-related it'd probably be a luxury cruise."

"Oh," Merlin says. "I like fishing. It's peaceful. Calming."

"You'll have to take me one day," Arthur offers, and gets a bright smile in reward.

Merlin twists slightly so that he's facing him. "So are you going to kiss me, or am I going to have to make the first move?"

Arthur pretends to think about it. "You know, I kind of think you just did."

"You're probably right," Merlin agrees. "In which case – what are you waiting for?"

Arthur smiles and leans forward, pressing his mouth to Merlin's.


End file.
